The Perfect Companion
by time-converges
Summary: Donna and the Doctor find a kitten. Or more accurately, a kitten finds them. Just as fluffy as it sounds.


Donna opened the door to the TARDIS, then jumped back, startled, as a small grey kitten raced in through the door. "Doctor!" she yelled.

He looked up from the console and was by her side in a second. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

"I think a cat just ran in through the door."

"That's impossible. The TARDIS wouldn't let just anything in through the door, certainly not a cat."

"I think I know a cat when I see one," Donna protested.

"Well then, where is it?"

She pointed back toward the console. "It ran past me, that way." She crept slowly toward where it had disappeared under the console, the Doctor close behind her. A muffled "Mew!" came from under the grating. Donna jumped back in surprise, running into the Doctor, who caught her shoulders. They looked at each other, then stepped slowly toward where the noise had come from. Donna crouched down to peer into the shadows. Two eyes blinked back at her.

"Oh, it's a kitten!" she said, reaching down carefully in to scoop it up. The kitten let her pick it up, mewing softly. She straightened, turning toward the Doctor. "See, a cat, like I said."

He looked sceptically at it, and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. The kitten squirmed as he scanned it. "Are you sure it's just a cat?"

"Of course it's just a cat – what else would it be? Some kind of alien?" He opened his mouth to reply, but she stopped him. "No, don't answer that." She held out the kitten for the scan.

He put the screwdriver back in his pocket. "Yep, just an ordinary feline. I'm surprised the TARDIS let it in. I thought she didn't like cats."

Donna scratched behind its ears, and it closed its eyes and purred appreciatively. "It's a skinny little thing. We should probably feed it."

"We're not keeping it!" the Doctor said.

"That thought never occurred to me, you dunce. I'm just saying it looks hungry."

"Oh, well then. We can probably find something for it to eat." He watched her pet the kitten. "Actually, for her to eat. It's a girl kitten."

"She's sweet," Donna said. "Here, hold her while I get some food for her. Don't want her hiding somewhere." She passed the cat over to him. The kitten immediately started trying to climb up his chest, and he laughed.

Donna returned in a few minutes with a bowl of tunafish and a ball of yarn. "Found something for her to play with after she eats," she said, waving the yarn. She put the bowl down, and retrieved the kitten from where she was clinging to the back of the Doctor's neck, batting at his hair.

"She's a good little climber, I'll give her that," he said. Donna set the kitten down by the food, then sat down on the floor herself. The Doctor sat down next to her, his shoulders touching hers. The kitten sniffed suspiciously at the food, then started eating delicately.

"Aw, how cute is that?" Donna said, before she could stop herself.

"She knows if she's cute you won't want to give her up," he said. "Sneaky, cats are."

"Yeah. Well, she probably has a good home out there somewhere," Donna said.

"She looks like a stray," the Doctor said. "So scrawny."

The kitten finished eating and nuzzled up to Donna's leg. "Want to play, little one?" she asked, unwinding some of the yarn and dangling it in front of her. The kitten pounced at it, batting wildly at the string as Donna bounced it up and down. They both laughed as the kitten flipped herself over in her enthusiasm, tumbling over. Donna teased her with the yarn, dragging it along the floor for her to chase.

"It really never occurred to you that you could keep her?" the Doctor said, looking at her.

She looked at him, surprised at the hurt expression on his face. "Well, you know. This life…it doesn't seem that…permanent."

"Not permanent?"

"I mean – we never know where we'll be, one day to the next. I didn't really think having a pet would fit into that picture."

"Oh. Well. But you didn't mean you were leaving anytime soon, right?" The kitten yawned and curled up next to his leg.

"You couldn't get rid of me if you tried," Donna said, smiling and nudging his shoulder with hers.

"Good then. Good. That's good." He reached out to scratch the kitten behind the ears, and she rolled over to let him scratch her tummy. "Well, you know... cats are fairly independent. And there's lots of space for her to roam around in here."

Donna looked at him sidelong. "True, they are independent."

"She would definitely have to sleep in your room, though. Not having a cat sleeping with me." The kitten batted her little paws at his hands, and he scooped her up.

Donna didn't mention how often he ended up in her room when he couldn't sleep, and she woke up with him in her bed. "Of course."

"Well, good, good," he said. "I suppose she needs a proper name, then. Can't be calling her Kitty, wouldn't be dignified."

"We could call her Jane Smith," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Let's call her Hope," he said, putting his arm around her.


End file.
